Would you check yourself into a dark cave for 48 hours?

It’s a practice some swear by for restoring the mind, body and soul, but there’s a few things you should know before going into the darkness.

Photo: Getty/Stock

It’s only after I take a last look at the outside world, close the door and am sitting alone in the pitch black that it hits me just how long I’ll be in this cave: 48 hours.

There’s a flickering candle that I’m meant to blow out when I’m ‘ready’, but the thought of extinguishing the last source of light I’ll see for two days makes me panic.

I try to calm myself by listening to the soothing sound of birds outside, but I’m finding the isolation and imminent total darkness suffocating. What the hell have I done?

I’d signed up to do a dark retreat, to be exact. Someone I met at a yoga class while on holiday in Guatemala’s serene Lake Atitlan had recommended a dark retreat as a way to escape from the constant stimulation of daily life and restore one’s self at a deep level – no technology, no speaking, no seeing. The idea is that by being in complete darkness and without distraction, we’re able to reconnect with ourselves, focus on a yoga or meditation practice, ponder life’s big questions, or just do nothing – something many of us struggle with in our ever connected and fast-paced world.

The ‘cave’ was a purpose built space at a yoga retreat on the edge of the lake. Food was brought to me twice a day via a double-sided cupboard and there was a single bed, shower, toilet and a yoga mat with some cushions. Not that I could see any of this – it was pitch black, and being forced to feel my way around was a humbling reminder to be grateful for the gift of sight.

But my dark retreat experience was not the restful, consciousness-expanding one I’d hoped for. When I fell asleep just a few hours in and then woke up, I had no idea how long I’d been out or what time it was, which I found extremely disorienting. And even though my main reason for doing the retreat was to get back on track with my transcendental meditation practice, when I tried to meditate I struggled to ‘float off’ into the zone, I think because there was nothing to float away from, so to speak.

After 24 hours (I only knew how long it’d been because I could hear morning birds outside), I made the decision to leave early. The prospect of spending another day alone in the dark was too much.

Professor Marc Cohen from RMIT University’s School of Health Sciences says jumping straight into an extended dark retreat period of 24-hours or more is probably too much for a first time experience with the practice.

“It could be confronting or bring up issues,” he warns. “My recommendation would be to try a sensory deprivation tank first, or start doing a dark retreat at home each night. Look at where the light is coming into your sleeping space and block it with blackout curtains, and stop using any screens for a 12-hour period overnight, say from 8pm to 8am.”

Cohen says we should be concerned about excessive exposure to artificial light, and how little complete darkness some of us, mainly city-dwellers or heavy gadget users, are getting.

“Traditionally humans spent time in total darkness each night, but in the modern world light pollution from artificial sources and screens is a serious issue,” he explains. “Having periods of extreme darkness is good for us – it balances our hormonal levels and allows our bodies to reset.”

While Cohen believes a ‘mini’ dark retreat of even just an hour a day would be better than an extended period occasionally, he says the act of leaving our daily lives behind to attend a dark retreat – or any kind of health retreat – is worthwhile.

“You get away from your normal routine and take time out to reassess your life and readjust your connection with yourself, and perhaps get back in touch with nature.

“Anytime that you are consciously taking time out to get back in touch with yourself – and your feelings – is beneficial.”

I recently moved to New York (surely one of the most light and noise polluted places on earth) and at first I hated my bedroom which is essentially a cave; a small space void of almost any natural light thanks to my window looking directly at a brick wall. But I’ve tried to see the positive side and enjoy an occasional mini dark retreat in the heart of Manhattan. I guess I didn’t have to go all the way to Guatemala after all.